


Jump

by Wildespeaks



Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-29 02:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildespeaks/pseuds/Wildespeaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William Brandt tries to understand why the hell he threw himself out of a window over 100 stories up to catch his team leader. To make matters worse, Ethan Hunt himself appears in his apartment and then suddenly Brandt's in the hospital. Minutes later he's being woken up by Ethan, who is dragging him down the hallway while calling Jane for backup. Now Brandt has to figure out if he's in Inception, or if he's just having a really terrible day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jump

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Mission Impossible franchise. This is only written for pure enjoyment.
> 
> Edited because I made the mistake of watching Knight and Day before writing this and Jane became June. She's back to normal now.

It had been a gut instinct to jump, to grab Ethan’s leg before he fell a hundred and thirty or so stories. He was immensely glad that Jane had leapt forward and grabbed his pant leg, even though he could hear it ripping as he held onto their Senior Field Agent for dear life. It took him a few seconds, but his grip on Ethan became firmer and his muscles quit straining. With a small glance at Carter, then at Ethan, he pulled his last assignment up as best he could with what little counterweight he had.

As soon as Ethan was up, into the building once more, William threw himself backwards into the glass that was thick enough to handle the winds this far up. Somehow, he felt just a little bit safer with his back to it, but he still felt as though he was going to fall to his death any second.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You saved him.

That’s what he’d told himself; when they’d pulled Ethan up, back into the building, where there was a relative safety. At least, if you didn’t have a catfight against an assassin because he killed the guy you loved. He’d gotten over what Carter had done later, when Ethan called them all back together, and he was alright with Benji calling him the helper. They knew his story, they knew why he was no longer a field agent, and they knew why he was so tight lipped about it at first.

Later, he would learn that Ethan knew too; then the man would convince him to join IMF once more. He had left that little table, where their Team Leader sat, his eyes never meeting Brandt’s, their gaze following something in the distance. Brandt hadn’t noticed his second priority from the mission that had put him on the fast track to analyst. It had been his choice, to be one, but now he’d show initiative in the field, and Ethan probably wanted him to stay in play.

A sigh, not as heavy as the one he’d heaved in the world’s tallest building, fell from his lips as he lay back in his bed. His apartment had been searched, torn apart by the WET team that had been assigned to take him out after the entire IMF was disavowed. They’d given up once they’d destroyed his documents, his hard drive, his gun safe, and his dresser. He’d have lost his cool and flipped out if he hadn’t been so worn out from trying to clear their names. A small semblance of anger hit him now, but he mentally discarded it; instead, he stretched out, wiggling his hips as he tried to find a comfortable position on his hastily made bed. He had made the effort to at least take his shoes, belt and slack, tie, and blazer off. His socks, boxer briefs, and dress shirt were all that remained, since he’d forgone the undershirt.

A small smile grew on Brandt’s face; he could stay in his apartment, no matter how much it resembled a war zone at the moment, and never leave it if he’d just be allowed to stay in bed all day. He’d become a recluse, order pizza, and never have to worry about his new boss giving him that look.

That look was pure Ethan. He’d only truly been up close to him for some time, but he’d watched him from afar for a while. He was, after all, one of the two assigned people he was supposed to protect. An old wound re-opened, but pushed it aside, focusing on the mental image Ethan’s look. He would furrow his brow, just slightly, and give a little quirk of his lip, which kind of resembled a smirk. Then he’d narrow his eyes, but not in anger, just this kind of strange, funny sort of way that always made him look like he was secretly making fun of you. He’d seen it a few times since they returned, along with a few more times when William and Benji had been bickering.

Benji. A small smile lifted the corners of Brandt’s lips, recalling all of the inside jokes he and Benji had just started accumulating. They’d started yelling ‘Jump!’ at each other randomly, imitating Ethan as best they could, yet always making sure the Senior Agent wasn’t ever around to hear them. There were a few close calls, where they thought Ethan had overheard them, but so far it was never brought up. Along with that, Benji also had it in his mind that Brandt was going to seduce the rich guy next, which he’d mistakenly let slip, and now there was no reasoning with the Brit. Benji declared that he would bet him a hundred if he’d volunteer to seduce the rich guy if it was applicable to the man’s tastes and needed to be done. Brandt had this odd feeling that Benji just wanted to get a recording of him trying to seduce someone and failing miserably.

An annoying and totally uncalled for ringing came from the pocket of the slacks on his floor, eliciting a groan from Brandt’s mouth.

Perfect.

With lazy roll, Brandt let himself fall over the side of the bed and onto the floor, where he stretched out and grabbed his pants that he’d thrown into an anonymous pile of something. Some of the crap in his apartment he didn’t even remember buying, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. His Team Leader appeared to be calling him and he’d rather not fail to answer, especially since he didn’t want to be the subject of the man’s ire the next time they worked together. Brandt pressed the answer button on the screen while rolling over, onto his back as he put the phone to his ear.

“Brandt.” Ethan’s voice, which was kind of oddly soft all of the time, floated into his ear.

“Yep?” William wasn’t sure Ethan’s usual break in between assignments, but four days wasn’t much of a ‘Thank-God-I’m-not-dead-now-let-me-practice-being-so-for-a-week’.

“My house is still property of my wife and IMF hasn’t been able to set me up with an apartment yet. I hate to ask--.”

“But you need a place to stay.” Brandt finished for Ethan, understanding why the man called, but still somewhat puzzled as to why he called him, of all people.

“Yes, that would be the problem. My assets are frozen, Benji lives an entire state away, and I wouldn’t ask that of Carter.” Ethan sounded as if explaining himself was entirely natural, but William suspected that he was probably reading his mind somehow.

“You can stay here, if you don’t mind decorations provided by the government.” As soon as Brandt spoke, the window to his bedroom slid open. With a start, Brandt scrambled to stand, nearly slipping on his own slacks and whatever the hell he had on the floor. Ethan Hunt climbed through the window, much to Brandt’s chagrin, and a strange feeling of being naked in front of his boss hit Brandt as the air conditioning kicked on and began to hit his legs.

“Thanks, Brandt.” Ethan didn’t spare him a glance as he shut and locked the window, apparently having already climbed the fire escape before calling William.

“No problem.” William really wanted his pants on. He really couldn’t stand the sight of Ethan in his bedroom and the thought that he didn’t have pants on. He wasn’t choosy with the people he was attracted to, he’d never really cared about gender, but hell, Ethan Hunt was definitely his type. Well, if he had a type, that is.

Ethan turned around, a small smile on his face before he looked about and his brow furrowed, seemingly angry before his gaze found Brandt. Their eyes met and Brandt refrained from gulping, his eyes following Ethan’s gaze as they traveled down his form. Brandt cleared his throat, trying his best to look anywhere but at Ethan.

“You caught me just before I was going to sleep.” Brandt about-faced and made his way to his destroyed dresser. He bent to grab the pair of black sweatpants he’d spotted earlier, but had decided not to wear; regret now stemming from his lack of will to put them on earlier.

“Sorry about that.” Ethan sounded slightly quieter than normal, less gun sure.

“Nah, it’s fine.” Brandt stepped into his pants, trying not to look at Ethan as he did so, hoping that he could at least feel less awkward once his boss could no longer see the defining of his lower extremities. Also, noting, that in this direction the beauty of Ethan Hunt couldn’t distract him.

Damn him and his ridiculous attractiveness and his poor timing.

As soon as Brandt turned around he came face to face with a look, but not the look he was used to. Ethan was close, so close he wondered why he hadn’t felt the man’s body behind him, and their noses were now merely centimeters apart. Their breath mixes, their bodies so intimately close, and Ethan’s body heat warms him to the core as it radiates off of him. He wants to say something, to question the man about what he was doing, why he was in Brandt’s personal bubble, and why he was staring directly into William’s brown eyes with his own hazel colored ones.

“Ethan?” His name escaped Brandt’s lips in a breath; exhaled in a whisper that brushes the other man. William gulps again, his eyes never leaving Ethan’s, until the man’s lips quirk after a second and a crooked smile grows on his face before Brandt can feel two strong hands grasp the front top of his pants. The sound and feeling of the drawstring of his pants being pulled and tied is a foreign feeling as his hands remained motionless at his side.

“You forgot the drawstring.” Ethan’s voice was so close he could nearly feel it, except for the fact that it was so soft normally. William’s ears tingled, his breath catching just as the last jerk of the strings brushed his body. William felt the urge to back away from his boss, to step on shards of glass if he had to, but he couldn’t, especially not when Ethan’s hands lightly fell on his hips. A light pressure on his sides pulled him forward, like he was in a trance, and their bodies fully met.

“Brandt. Brandt.” William could feel something hit his face.

“Brandt, wake up! Brandt...! William!” A loud beeping seemed to surround him; along with the familiar noises of what he could assume was a hospital. Medical jargon seemed to be coming from every direction, even though Brandt couldn’t quite tell which way was which at the moment. The only grounding thing was Ethan’s voice, which was presumably by his side, though he couldn’t be sure which. He could hear doctors telling Ethan that he had to stay outside, in the hallway, but Ethan’s voice was fighting back. A smile, or what he hoped was a smile, found its way onto his face.

“He’s responsive, get him into an OR!” He could at least decipher those words, or that’s what he assumed were the words of the nurse that he could now, at least hazily, tell had come from his left. Right now, however, he wasn’t sure of anything.

“We’re going to need you to wait out here, sir.” Was another phrase he’d recently deciphered, which now brought him up to at least three sentences or so. He lazily counted this as a new record before realization set in and his eyes fully opened. With reflexes brought on by years of IMF Agent training, Brandt’s arm flew to Ethan’s left bicep and held on tightly as they passed through a set of double doors. Their eyes met, Ethan’s familiar face coming in to full view. A feeling of contented relief filled Brandt for a brief second before panic returned and his mind was brought back to their mission.

“Works has the file and the start-up codes for the rail gun. The paper is the tracking device.” Slipped past his lips in Russian, one of the strategic languages he’d had to learn a long time before he even knew what the IMF was.

“I know. We got him.” Ethan eyes softened, even though, from what the bright light shed on his teammate, his face was cut up and his left cheek was bleeding lightly.

“Mr. Rockford, you’re going to have to let your friend go now. He’s got to go to get fixed up too.” A nice nurse with a kind face pried his vice-like grip from Ethan’s bicep. Ethan looked as if he were going to grab Brandt in return, but Carter appeared into his recently hazy field of vision and they halted in the hallway, leaving Brandt to be rolled off into an operating room as his vision blacked out once more.

* * *

“Mr. Rockford. Mr. Rockford.” Brandt’s vision began to swim and he attempted to lift an arm up to hold his head, but a strange feeling of something taped into it made him refrain. The other arm’s hand was being held by what felt like a thin, feminine set of digits. Brandt blinked several times to clear his gaze, noting that several blurry figures were stationed about his room, one of them sitting to his right. He blinked again and the figures started to sort themselves out, revealing that the person to his right was Agent Jane Carter, dressed like an ER nurse. She held his hand lightly, like he was a patient instead of one of her teammates, and smiley ever so sweetly. He smiled back through the haze of what he assumed was Morphine.

“Hello….Nurse Smith.” The nurse’s badge was thankfully easy to read, as the letters were printed in large letters. Jane’s smile was larger than the one before hand and she looked to Benji, who was sitting in a chair at the foot of his bed, then to Ethan, who was standing in the doorway, not paying any attention to them. Brandt followed her gaze as it changed, nodding at Benji, who grinned in reply, and then fell onto Ethan. The man seemed like his thoughts were elsewhere, so Brandt looked away, a strange feeling making his chest clench.

“Why did you become a nurse, Ms. Smith?” Brandt changed the subject, feigning interest in the fake nurse’s career. Carter smiled at what he presumed was his wording, leaning forward to pretend to check his IV as a doctor entered the room carrying a chart.

“You have a lot of visitors, Mr. Rockford.” She smiled sweetly, mimicking the nurse from before, he assumed, and straightened out his bed sheets.

“Mr. Rockford, you’re awake. Good.” The doctor moved in closer, her light blue eyes crinkling as she smiled genuinely. Brandt attempted another smile and tried to focus on his doctor, but he noticed that Ethan was paying attention now and was eying his doctor warily.

“My name is Doctor Brennan; I operated on you in the OR. How are you feeling?” His attention turned away from Ethan and to the auburn haired doctor talking to him.

“My vision’s a little blurred and my head is throbbing slightly, but that’s it as far as I can tell.” Brandt tried to focus all of his attention on his doctor, but his gaze found Ethan’s face and the tension that it held.

“That good!” Doctor Brennan’s voice rose and he saw Ethan’s eyes follow her pen out of the corner of his eye. A strange calm feeling filled Brandt and all of his body relaxed. The knowledge that he apparently had a good doctor, a team that would disguise themselves just to see him, and a team leader that was watching him like a hawk made him feel ridiculously safe. The itching feeling of being hunted and watched from afar was gone, at least, for now.

“Nurse Smith and I will perform a few routine tests, now, if you’re feeling up to it.” Brennan’s voice brought him back to attention, once again, and he nodded, blaming the IV drip to his left. Jane stood up from her seat by his side and assisted the Doctor in the task of testing his motor skills, his sight, and his ability to react. He was so engrossed in his tests he hadn’t even noticed that Ethan had sat down in Jane’s chair until Jane spoke to him.

“Mr. Jones, could you assist us in helping Mr. Rockford sit up. We need him to sit on the side of the bed.” Brandt’s eyes shot to Ethan’s form as he stood up and let June move the rail down. Ethan smiled in return to the request and leaned forward, helping Brandt sling his legs over the side of the bed, his hands leaving tingling sensations where he touched him. Brandt ignored them, instead looking to Benji, who had pulled out a laptop and was probably playing Chess Titians. He nearly rolled his eyes before he returned his attention to the test of his reflexes, the little rubber hammer thing being tapped on his knees and his legs kicking out in return.

“Well, Mr. Rockford, you’re recuperating well! You’re going to have to stay in the hospital for another night, but you’ll be out bright and early tomorrow. I’ll have Nurse Smith come in later and teach you how to change your bandages and discuss your medication, but that should be all!” His Doctor was exceedingly chipper, but he smiled at her anyways and thanked her for her care. She moved to the door, her happy bubble following her, and checked something off his chart before sliding it back into its place at the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow! Until then, rest up and don’t play too many board games!” She looked towards the small pile of board games he hadn’t noticed before, and then disappeared into the hallway. A sigh of relief fell from William’s lips, a sharp pain in his side following it. A slight cringe of his brow set his team in motion; Ethan leapt forward and helped him back into a laying down position, Jane also assisting him, and Benji depositing his laptop onto the chair so that he could rush to close the door. June pulled his blankets up over his bare legs, Benji shut his laptop and sat it in the bag before going for the board games, and Ethan was entirely too close as he helped Brandt situate his pillows. His team was acting very strange.

“Did you all get hit with something?” They all paused and looked at him as if this was all entirely normal. He fixed the group with a dead eyed stare.

“This is a mission, isn’t it?” His tone was flat, his face completely impassive as the entire rest of the team stilled. Brandt looked to Ethan, who was having a hard time meeting his gaze again, and then turned to the other two.

“What’s the mission?” He wanted in, he didn’t care that he was in a hospital bed; he wanted to help his team. It had been his fault he’d ended up like this, his fault that his cover had been blown, and it was his fault that Ethan couldn’t look at him right now. He was ashamed of him, he was sure of it; he was ashamed at how he’d reacted when he’d seen that man had pointed a gun at Ethan. To his credit, it was a big ass gun, and Ethan was too far away to do anything, too unaware at how dangerously close he’d come to being shot.

“What?” He looked at them again, pulling himself out of his own reverie, before he could remind himself of all that happened.

“Benji, Carter.” Ethan spoke in his authoritative tone that Brandt was generally alright with, yet now feared immensely. The two agents, in turn, nodded and left the room, Benji dropping the board game Sorry back onto the pile on his way out. He could hear Jane transform into Nurse Smith and offer to go to lunch with Benji on her break, which the Brit readily agreed to. Movement to his right brought him back to the happenings in the room, the main event being Ethan stepping away from his bed and running a hand over his face. Brandt already regretting breaking the weird ‘Let’s take care of Brandt’ mood that had been going on before this.

“You should have stuck to the plan.” Brandt sucked in a breath, feeling the shame that he’d felt earlier clench at his chest again.

“He was going to shoot you, he saw you climbing the building. I didn’t want--.”

“That’s just it Brandt, it wasn’t your call. He was supposed to see me! Carter had him in her sights and your cover was going to stay intact until you could exit free of fire! You had the codes, you had the advantage, and we were about to take him out! You shooting him cost us the ability to take out the entire ring!” Ethan spoke harshly, but his voice stayed low enough to not cause anyone to intrude.

“He was fast, Ethan! He had the damn rifle assembled before I could pull myself off the bed and grab the pistol underneath the side-table! Carter had no chance of taking him out before he--!” Ethan cut him off with a look, the look that told him to shut his damn mouth before he said any more. Something was off with his team leader; the less angry, generally more worried about his team, team leader appeared to be taking a day off.

“You. Were on. The bed?” He looked livid about this fact as he spoke in a clipped tone, something Brandt hadn’t been subjected to. There was a strange look on Ethan’s face, a look that was unlike any of the others he’d seen. He’d become extremely good at discerning what was wrong with his teammates, his days as an analyst causing him to be extremely good at recognizing features of the face, and Ethan generally was an easy tell. He had certain looks, like the one he’d rather not recall, and this one was a look he’d never seen before.

“Yes, but that was part of my cover. It was my turn to--.”

“To what?” Ethan’s voice was deadly low, “To seduce the rich guy, Brandt? To live up to a joke? To screw up the entire mission? Or is it all of the above?” Ethan rounded on him and Brandt felt the need to curl up and die. His chest hurt, his eyes hurt from holding back what he would generally refer to as ‘unmanly tears’, and his bullet wound was suddenly throbbing with pain. He was being scolded like a child for making a call he had been so sure of at the time. He had given Benji the codes to access the Rail Gun and disable the Gun’s ability to charge, he’d saved Ethan from being shot in the head while trying to scale a wall, and he’d saved June from the inevitable chase that would have ensued if she’d shot the target from her position. Brandt looked away from Ethan, unable to find a way to defend himself as he was overwrought with that old, familiar feeling of having failed the man.

“Brandt.” William couldn’t look at him, couldn’t move or he would cause himself more pain. He’d fucked up, again, and he couldn’t take it. The only consolation he had was that he hadn’t gotten someone killed and only he had been hurt. There was also his black-out dream to consider, but he wasn’t going to even think about that at the moment.

God, what I wouldn’t give for that to have been real and for it to be happening right now.

“Brandt.” He saw Ethan move back to the chair out of the corner of his eye, but he dare not move. He didn’t want this to happen; he didn’t want to have another talk about how he screwed up. He’d done the same thing with the Secretary when he’d failed his mission before he became an analyst.

“William.” Brandt shut his eyes and furrowed his brow, trying to shut out Ethan, trying not to notice how the man had stood up from his chair and way moving about the room. He could hear the near-silent movements, the training of IMF making Ethan Hunt one of the deadliest men alive. It was only when the movement involved climbing onto his bed and leaning over him like a predator would its next kill, did Brandt finally acknowledge Ethan Hunt.

“William.” The rail was back up on Brandt’s right side and currently Ethan’s hands were using both to keep him from falling onto Brandt, which wouldn’t be a problem with the man hooked to the IV if he wasn’t shot.

Actually, I wouldn’t care if I was shot twice, this is fine with me.

“William.” Ethan was so close to him, so very close.

“Ethan?”

“William. Wake up!”

“What?” Brandt’s eyes grew wide and the heart rate monitor began to beep incessantly.

“WAKE UP! BRANDT! WE HAVE NO TIME, NO TIME!” The Ethan above him was no longer speaking, but he could hear the man’s voice ringing in his head. A sharp pain, where he was shot, set his nerves on fire and Brandt sat up quickly, his eyes wide as he took in the new surroundings.

“What the—?!” Brandt started, but was quickly dragged backwards by the collar of his shirt.

“Brandt’s been hit, Carter, I need extraction!” Brandt gritted his teeth and dug his heels into the ground, pushing himself backwards to help Ethan drag him. Ethan halted and turned to him, letting Brandt go and balancing him against his calf before turning, catching Brandt, and pulling him up, onto his feet. Brandt let out a curse and grimaced, but tried his best to stay upright.

“Brandt, I need to you stand. I know it hurts, but I need to you to do it.” Brandt nodded, unable to speak for the pain in his side. A glance down revealed reason, or reasons, as there were three small bullet holes in his side; the idea that someone had shot him with a .22 caliber bullet three times and he let them get away made him freeze completely.

“Ethan, when you found me, was Rockford there? Was Jones dead?” Memories of a man dressed in black pulling a mask perfectly resembling Ethan off of his face as he stood, inches away from him in Brandt’s apartment after they kissed. The man pulling him forward once more, sticking a Beretta Neos into his side, then pulling the trigger three times, and then letting him drop to the floor. The feeling of glass, wood, and a sharp pain in his side all rushed back to him as he remembered his vision blurring. Another man walked in, his alligator boots crushing bits of what used to be Brandt’s life, and he bent down to lay nearly flat on the floor beside Brandt.

“How….?” He remembered trying to speak as the pain and blood loss began to affect him.

“How what? How’d we know your entire team’s true identities? How’d we know how to find you? Be clear, Agent Brandt.” The man had spoken, a smirk forming on his face.

“How did you know about….?” He had looked towards the mask, discarded on the floor.

“Your little crush? It was a guess. As best a guess could be, considering, you were an analyst not too long ago and had utterly failed the man.” The grin he’d given him next made Brandt shudder before he heard the sound of a bullet sliding through a silencer at top speed and hitting a human body. Then the man, who he finally thought to identify as Asher Rockford, a Major retired from duty after making a bad call with a drone, quickly boosted himself off the floor. Another shot fired, another body fell to the ground, and he was brought back to the present as Ethan slapped him.

“Ow! What the hell!?” Brandt grit out from behind his teeth, his eyes finding Ethan’s and his left brow rising at the other man, who gave him one of his ‘what’d I do’ looks.

“You weren’t responding. I improvised. Now let’s go, Brandt.” Ethan lifted up Brandt’s arm, lifting him up slightly on the side that was injured and supporting that weight. Brandt bent his arm, his hand grasping at Ethan’s shirt to make their combined effort slightly easier.

“You didn’t answer my question Ethan.” Brandt spoke as they walked as quickly as possible, their destination the stairwell as several men were currently filing out of the elevator behind them. Ethan swung them sideways, forcing Brandt against the inside of the stairwell after throwing open the door. Ethan slid his leg out, catching the door just as it was about to slam shut, before sliding it slowly closed as he pressed the latch mechanism.

“Let me ask you one first, Brandt. How did they get in? How did he get you at so close a range when I couldn’t even best your reaction to a gun being pointed at you point blank? How did he find you?” Ethan hissed as he placed two hands on either side of William’s torso and underneath his arms. Brandt immediately felt boxed in and unconsciously pressed himself against the wall, ignoring the pain in his side and the heat pooling in his lower belly.

Not the time, goddamn it. Pain, think about the pain and all that that activity would cause and then….think about it some more.

“He called, he must’ve tracked my cell phone; he used a mask and voice changer to pose as you. He came in through the fire escape and window; I thought you were just being you, so I allowed it. Then he got a little close and I thought…” Brandt paused, looking away from his team leader. He willed himself to only think about the pain in his side and what standing up did to him right now, but he couldn’t take his mind off of Ethan, in front of him, trapping him against a wall. One of Ethan’s hands moved from the wall and the crackle of Jane in Ethan’s ear brought them back to their current situation.

“We need to move,” Ethan pulled Brandt back into their earlier position and helped Brandt resume stumbling down the stairwell, “We’ll continue this conversation later.”

Brandt could only nod as the pain resurfaced to the forefront of his mind and he limped down the stairwell, his only support being Ethan’s arm. They finally stumbled all the way down, to the bottom step, and Ethan kicked open the door just as Jane’s voice once again could be heard through the Bluetooth ear clip Ethan was wearing. Brandt thought of how they must’ve been in a hurry to be only using the i-phones for only a split second before Ethan twirled him around into his body like a dancer and picked him up bridal style. Brandt held back a scream of pain as Ethan ran him through the lobby, bullets flying at them as the team that had used the elevator reappeared at ground level.

“CARTER!” Ethan yelled, running as quickly as he could through the lobby with Brandt in his arms, crying out as another bullet slashed across his shoulder. He could feel Ethan speed up just as they crashed through the glass of the lobby and landed upright on the pavement and hit the ground running. A van screeched to a halt at the intersection, the door sliding open and revealing Carter. Ethan’s pace quickened even more as team followed them, with no return fire halting them. A bullet whizzed by, hitting the side of the van and nearly hitting Jane in the shoulder. Brandt, in a moment of clarity from the pain, reached down to grab Ethan’s gun and aimed. Three shots took out four of the men, one of them hitting a fellow team member as his finger still on the trigger. Just as Brandt was about to take out the fifth man to exit the building, Ethan practically tossed him in the van and jumped in, taking the gun from his hand and turning to shoot the last man. Ethan then leapt backwards, into the van, just as Carter shoved the door closed and Benji sped off.

“Brandt, hold on!” Jane’s voice called just as Ethan pulled his head into his lap and held his upper torso as still as possible.

“Ethan, we’ve got a drone on our tail!” Was the last thing Brandt heard before he lost all consciousness.

* * *

Beeping, again, was the sound that brought Brandt out of his unconscious state, except that instead of a comfortable hospital scene that one would expect when shot, had been replaced with a room. It had a bedroom feel to it, like someone was supposedly living in it at some point in time, and then there was the feeling that they weren’t quite settled in. Brandt pointedly stared at the boxes that had been made into a side table for the bed and raised a brow, then swept his gaze across the room until he met an IV drip and a large, vintage doctor’s bag.

Did a country doctor from the Wild West make a house call? Because, seriously, it’s starting to get harder and harder to determine reality from dream and I’m starting to get fed up with this IV nonsense.

Brandt reached for the IV, but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of his team leader striding into the room, half naked. Brandt immediately placed his arm into a semi-sleep-state position and closed his eyes just enough to see Ethan, to assess whether or not it was the man who saved him from his own apartment, or it was the imposter again.

I would hope there wasn’t another one. I can’t take all this damn teasing. It’s like Ethan planned the whole thing….except he can’t plan my dreams. That’s it; I’m never watching Inception again.

“Brandt, are you awake?” Ethan was staring right at him with a level gaze, his hazel eyes boring right into William’s mostly closed ones. Brandt quickly willed himself to relax, even out his breathing, and try not to actually fall asleep. He felt the bed, well really it was just the mattress on the floor, dip slightly and he tried not to imagine Ethan crawling towards him. This would be when he’d wake up in the dream and he’d be, once again, without the knowledge of what a wet dream about Ethan would do to him. He nearly raised a brow at his own thoughts, but refrained as he felt Ethan run a hand through his hair. Brandt let out a soft hum of satisfaction before he could even make an attempt at hiding it, forcing him to try and do the only thing he could think of: curl up into a ball and pretend he woke up due to his IV.

“William, I know you’re awake.” Brandt cringed at both the use of his first name and the knowledge that Ethan knew he was awake when he made that sound.

I’m screwed. If only I were literally fucked.

“Ah…um….” Brandt opened his eyes one eye at a time, trying to look anywhere but Ethan.

“How are you feeling?” Ethan appeared to be taking the high road and ignoring that Brandt had practically purred at his touch. Brandt rolled over so that he was laying on his back and no longer in the fetal position, allowing him time to process how he actually felt instead of being distracted by the other man in the room. With a run of his hand over his side, Brandt felt the bandages that he assumed were covering his bullet wounds before he lifted his arm with the IV in it and felt for the ace bandage that he assumed was holding a gauze strip on his shoulder. The pain was dull, more like an ache, and he felt as if he’d been sealed; like he’d split a few seams and been made whole again.

“I feel alright. The pain’s not as bad as it was….how long have I been out?” Brandt finally managed to meet Ethan’s gaze, his face blank.

“A week; we kept you under so that we--.”

“Wouldn’t have to worry about me fucking it all up this time?” Brandt didn’t want to be the one to mention it, but he’d failed his team by not taking out the bad guy. Even when he was injured, he had the chance to kill Rockford, and he was sure that if Ethan didn’t kill him then, he would have to face the consequences of letting a madman live.

“Brandt.” Ethan caught his attention so he could look up just in time to notice that the older man had settled himself onto Brandt’s pelvic area. Brandt’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Ethan straddling him, half naked, with only a sheet to separate them.

“If you don’t stop belittling yourself, I’m going to have to show you how much you mean to our team. It will be a slow, drawn out process that will involve a lot of exercise, a hell of a lot of moaning, and will end with you crying out my name so loud the neighbors will call the goddamn cops.” Brandt couldn’t breathe and it wasn’t because Ethan was sitting on him.

“To answer your question from earlier, I did kill Jones. I killed him in cold blood, even though he could have been an asset. Why? Because he touched you in a way only I should.” Ethan leaned forward slightly, and then moved so that he could pull the sheets off of Brandt completely and cover the former analyst’s body with his, with only his arms on his elbows keeping them from completely touching. Brandt wanted to move, to roll pull Ethan down on top of him, to finally kiss the real Ethan Hunt, to feel completed and whole as the finely toned body above him connected with his, but he refrained, listening to Ethan’s every word.

“Do you know how happy I was to hear that you would’ve let me in close? To let me truly in? Do you have any idea how angry I was that they’d use my identity, to use my face, in order to get to you so they could kill you?” Ethan’s voice was so sultry, so soft, so mixed with emotions. Brandt wanted more than ever to touch him, to talk, to let him know that Ethan could be this close to him at any time.

Ethan, please, stop asking questions you know the answer to and touch me.

Brandt couldn’t find his voice as Ethan lowered himself closer and closer to Brandt, his hazel eyes searching for some sort of answer in Brandt’s. William had never seen Ethan this way except for when he was with Julia. He’d been so soft, so loving, so intimate; Brandt had loved the way Ethan loved, and on occasion, would guiltily think about Ethan in a non-professional way.

But guiltily. Forever guilty. Oh God, what is wrong with me?

“Don’t do that, Will. Don’t go back into the past.” Damn Ethan and his Jedi-mind-reading skills. Their eyes met again and Ethan leaned in, their lips meeting, their bodies touching as Ethan lowered himself down, onto Will. Brandt ignored the dull throb of his wounds, instead focusing on the open, needy mouth connected to his and tongue that was doing crazy things to his senses. A moan flew from Brandt’s mouth and was muffled into Ethan’s, the brunette on top of him using it to his advantage and pressing one leg in between Brandt’s to get even closer.

“Oh God, Ethan.” Brandt managed to get out as Ethan began to kiss a trail down his neck, to his collarbone, and proceeded to his left nipple, pausing there to lavish attention on it. Brandt let out a strangled moan and arched his back, his toes curling and digging into the sheets below him. His nerves felt like they were on fire, his body humming with delight as Ethan teased him, the senior agent taking that moment to run his hand down the length of Brandt’s torso and down, slipping into the thin boxers someone had apparently slipped him into. Brandt couldn’t focus on the fact that he’d been changed as he moaned and writhed, small noises escaping him that he’d never heard before. Reason made him think that they were much manlier gasps and squeals, because he was a man, but he lost that train of thought as Ethan palmed him in his boxers.

“That’s right, William. Stay here, with me. Moan for me. Let me hear you. I want you to come for me. Scream my name. Fuck the neighbors, fuck everyone else around here.” Ethan’s soft, commanding words were whispered in his ear like a promise and each time the word ‘fuck’ passed the man’s lips, Brandt felt a strange sense of being alive. Ethan was forgiving him, forgiving him and moving on from what couldn’t be. Julia would always be one of Ethan’s loves, one of the people Ethan would always protect and cherish, but he was moving past his love for her with Brandt. A strange feeling bubbled up, from Brandt’s core, and a large smile grew on his face before he could even stop it. His gaze found Ethan’s and their eyes locked, a devious look appeared on Ethan’s face as he lowered himself even more, then hesitated.

Brandt had never seen Ethan hesitate except for when he was about to leap one hundred and thirty floors; that’s when he hesitated. Now he hesitated to take the next step, to make their relationship more intimate than just co-workers and friends. Brandt watched Ethan for a few seconds, seeing different emotions pass over his face. Brandt had thankfully come to learn all Ethan-moods through close surveillance and he knew this one easily.

“Come here.” Brandt pulled Ethan up, trying his best to ignore how small movements made the dull pain of his injuries just a little sharper. Ethan let Brandt direct him so that he was once again straddling Brandt, but now they were chest to chest. Brandt leaned forward, keeping all his weight on his right arm instead of his injured left side, and touched his lips to Ethan’s in a light kiss.

“It’s too soon.” Brandt stated, a small half smile pulling at his face as he whispered, not trusting his voice at the moment. Ethan looked torn, he couldn’t look into Brandt’s eyes, and he was pretty much frozen in place.

“Ethan, look at me,” Ethan’s eyes slowly lifted, his years of experience of putting on a poker face and being an agent seeming to fail him, “Don’t leave me like that. Just talk to me.”

Brandt leaned forward, pulling the older man into a semi-embrace, which Ethan returned, except that he leant them backwards, supporting all of Brandt’s weight as he did so. As soon as they were horizontal, Ethan rolled off of Brandt, letting the other man pull his boxers up to his hips. A small grunt fell from Brandt’s lips as he situated himself, trying not to bump his wounds on his left side and ignoring his right shoulder graze, making it easier for Ethan to lie down next to him.

“I’m sorry, Will.” Ethan’s voice wasn’t normal, wasn’t confident, wasn’t cocky. Brandt looked at him with a cocked eyebrow.

“I’m not fully healed, Ethan. It would have only aggravated my wounds and then we wouldn’t have been able to fully express out love.” Brandt smirked and Ethan, finally being Ethan, gave him the look Brandt dreaded.

“Express our love?”

“You told me to scream your name. I assumed we were being all lovey-dovey and shit.”

“You and me? Lovey-dovey? Brandt, I think you hit your head.”

“Are you kidding? This coming from the guy who climbed the tallest building in the world from the outside while a sandstorm brewed behind him?”

“This coming from the guy who jumped into a cooling vent with a turbine as a fan.”

“You said to jump!”  
“And so you did. Your intelligence astounds me.”

“Shut up, Hunt.”

“Whatever you say, Brandt.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how in character this is, I tried to write it with the movie fresh in my mind, but that involves going to the theater a lot. I hope they don't seem too OOC. Also, if you didn't understand what was happening to Brandt, he basically passed out cold after being shot, had a weird dream that he was in a hospital, then woke up to being dragged out of his apartment. So, the hospital bit is the dream....but he didn't know he was dreaming.....INCEPTION.


End file.
